The Black Box of Going Vegan
2001 A Space Odyssey - designed by Hal Hefner
When I first went vegan…
When I first went vegan, I was probably hungry for the whole first year. I ate some awful tasting things. I struggled with bouts of binge eating. I was absolutely clueless. Nevertheless, I never made much of a fuss. It was my decision, and I was committed to it.
This was 2010. Very much a different world than today. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all bad. I felt like some weight was lifted, or I had gotten rid of something inside. That was nice. I just felt ‘cleaner’. I also really enjoyed discovering new foods (like mangoes, papaya, avocado… too many to name!) and suddenly aligning my life with my intuition. But my lack of experience, my ignorance, and ill preparation (I was working 90+ hours a week) presented lots of challenges.
Now, it seems effortless. I love how I eat. I’ve learned so much over the years. It doesn’t seem a challenge in the slightest. But though I welcomed the experience, it’s not fair for me to say that the transition was easy.
Yes, with the right attitude, the right preparations, the right education, I can see how the change might be instantly gratifying for some, even fun. But unfortunately, that’s not quite the context for most people.
15+ years later, it’s still quite easy to forget the challenges. I might say to others, ‘no it’s easy, buy this, do that,’ etc. But the real challenge (apart from education) lies in the newness of things: having no basis nor memories, being vulnerable, and starting from scratch. All the while, you’re going through the learning process and constantly making mistakes.
Why vegan?
There are a lot of very powerful reasons to stop eating animal products, especially in the 21st century. It’s not necessary nor is any aspect of it (though out of sight, out of mind) agreeable to most people. It’s not a major stretch of the imagination then, to promote something like going vegan. It makes a whole lot of sense, and most of us are rather powerfully affected by the ways in which it does.
If people are able to open up to it all, there’s an innate receptivity. Killing doesn’t feel very good, whether we do it or buy from those that do. But when you see it done with Six Sigma-like precision on a massive scale, with confined, sick, enslaved animals, it is maddening. Nor does it take much ‘belief’ in global warming to be affected by the Amazon destruction, species extinction, marine decimation, misuse of natural resources (i.e. growing corn and soy for livestock), or sheer pollution.
There’s an intuitive element to it too. Neither dead nor live animals are appetizing. Life or death necessity is different. But when you’re at home in the 21st century, in the sedated, quiet surroundings of modern life, a dead body or breast milk is rather disgusting. Plus, it’s a world of difference with plant-based food. It’s beautiful, it’s attractive, it’s aromatic (as it naturally is), and it just feels nourishing. No disguises necessary.
On top of it all is the scholarly research (both on health and the environment), the impressive athletic feats, the jarring footage, the open rescues (and inspiring stories), and the colorful food presentation presented in documentaries and across social media.
Suffice it to say, ‘why vegan’ has sort of been mastered by now. There is not much people can really say against it at this point. As such, when it has found itself in the limelight, so often it has come with a big splash.
So what happens? Why do the blockbuster documentaries ebb and flow like every other fad out there? Why do people temporarily open up to it, only to go back so soon? Why is it, even with mainstream visibility, we keep having the same conversation (proving protein, industry practices, etc.) ad nauseam to no avail? And how is it, in a world of such hopelessly passionate ‘pet’ owners, there is still such vehement opposition?
From why to how
When you do come across vegan, it’s usually - whether proclaimed or cleverly inferred - another reason for why: ‘did you know about this’ or ‘what about that’, ‘this research says this’ or ‘watch me do this, I’m vegan!’.
It’s almost always the ‘why’ or ‘why not’, to the point where the very word has become an emotionally charged archetype of sorts, but more ‘shadow’ or rumor than reality. The actual living and embracing of it so seldom gets shown.
In all likelihood, ‘vegan’ was never modeled for most of us, prior to actually going vegan. We didn’t grow up with it nor have we ever really seen it. Nevertheless, we still sensed there was a good reason for it.
So what happens after we watch that hit vegan documentary? Well, the show kind of just ends, while the real show actually begins, and nothing we watched made this part of the journey any more visible or familiar.
We’re motivated and inspired, but it can be all the more frustrating when we feel so powerless in how to start. We see the dazzling spectacle, emotions run high, but we never actually see what it could mean in practice. There’s this sort of longing anticipation, but ‘vegan’ itself stays foreign and perhaps becomes even more so because of it.
To have such an alluring impetus for why, yet such an ignorance for how, creates this schism in people, or cognitive dissonance. It can only last so long. One side will eventually prevail: whether the motivation to make it work, or the resignation that it can’t, with all of attendant cleverness coming to terms with that implied inevitability.
But even if it were more visible, it is a big change when you stop to think of it. It’s a neurological phenomenon of sorts. We bring to the transformation a lifetime of memories, habits and routines that acted as a silent, take-for-granted backdrop of our daily life. But you only notice it when you’re being called to change it, how it provided this sense of comfort and equilibrium, which takes time to reestablish.
It’s not that ‘vegan’ is scary, but that ‘change’ can feel rather scary. It’s like jumping into water from up high. We fear how vulnerable we’ll feel en route, even though its only water. We contend with that regardless, let alone when we factor in the sense for where we’ll land, or in this case, what feels to be a mysterious black box.
The black box
When we first hear of ‘vegan’ or are actually considering it, all we have to go on at that point is perhaps the bits and pieces we’ve learned by virtue of association. It might be someone we felt was judging us, some random YouTuber, or things overtly vegan like Daiya cheese, tempeh, tofu, Beyond Meat, Impossible Burgers, etc.
What is out there about ‘vegan’ is information overload, bits and pieces of knowledge intermixed with sheer ignorance. And when it’s new to you, how in the world can you tell the difference? It all feels the same, and the more there is, the more intimidating it seems. That 10,000-foot mountain view of vegan is a rare phenomenon. What is out there, taken altogether, feels more like looking out a dirty window in the middle of Times Square.
‘Vegan’ just sits there like this very imposing, foreign thing, reflective of the intense context with which we encounter it. We almost forget (until we’re reminded) that apples are vegan, or mangos, sweet potatoes, squash, grapes, and a virtually endless world of flavor - maybe even our favorite foods.
Nevertheless, the word itself is almost completely meaningless. It has a philosophical dimension and only slightly, a practical one, in that it implies ‘nothing from animals’. But for so many, the perception is this limited, preconceived idea arbitrarily fashioned through our brief encounters with it, versus some useful visual or insight. Suffice to say, we are the black box going into it all, just as much ‘vegan’ is.
We’ve simply never seen it modeled, and if we have, it was still likely only a limited, cursory impression. We meet ‘vegan’ too in a sort of obligatory, ‘you should’ sense, versus some alluring spectacle of the change itself that inspires the imagination. We don’t see it, we don’t know it, and we’re really not all that excited about it, though we might still feel called to try it.
There’s simply too much depth to it and throughout the plant kingdom, to rest contented with ‘vegan’ being feared and stereotyped. Of course, not everything can be addressed. But the change itself touches on so much. To go on various tours of it all and to gain a little familiarity (short of actual experience) is a far nicer starting point. After all, it’s the 21st century, and though certain individuals might be cool starting from scratch and stepping into the unknown, everyone else doesn’t have to. They face enough already.
The modern context
What they do face is the unique context where we all live today, that no one person is directly responsible for. Food has been ‘perfected’, isolated, and heightened to almost drug-like proportions. We’re a million miles away from it - it’s disguised too - and we rely on stories from industry as a substitute for reality. All the while, we live this sedentary, simulated sort of existence that’s rewiring us in the process. Our natural stream-of-consciousness has become dictated and contrived, while our evolving sense of expectation moves at the same, instantaneous pace of the virtual world.
It is more or less the status quo; all the while, it’s based around an animal-based diet, ‘out of sight, out of mind’ mythologized as ‘the natural way’.
There’s more you could point to, but it is a culture where instability lives as the standard, and almost everything becomes a fad because of it.
It’s a delicate balancing act. We contend with being heard above a virtual raucous and with what that raucous is doing to everyone. We contend with making food palatable while also resisting the pull toward unsustainable and unhealthy standards. We contend with provoking confrontation (inevitably) while also trying to soften or transform it. And we contend with meeting people where they’re at while also encouraging their better selves.
Alongside illuminating ‘vegan’ are these more profound, timely conversations that are affecting us all. The cause itself doesn’t live in a vacuum. It concerns people and their choices, and thus their well-being (or sanity) too. Inevitably, it’s necessary to acknowledge these things, though seemingly unrelated, that profoundly affect everything else in the process. When something’s dependent upon change and stability, pandemonium is to no avail, even with a popular presence amongst it.
Overall
For all the reasons to change, and all the efforts to show those reasons, it’s unfortunate to see what the impact has been, versus what it could be. No one is truly so rigidly attached to putting a dead animal in their stomach, nor are they truly horrified by the beautiful food forest of possibility. It’s simply that they’re used to one thing and it’s difficult parting from it without seeing into what comes next.
People struggle to confront the unknown. It is intimidating, especially in the modern world. But even those who momentarily get past that contend with the very real struggle of change. Most see the writing on the wall way in advance, and continue on with the status quo: ‘out of sight, out of mind’. It’s unfortunate to spend so many resources provoking that impetus to change, without a sufficient amount helping to make it a reality. It seems to be somewhat self-nullifying.
The ‘how’ and the ‘why’ are far from mutually exclusive. None of this is to condemn one in favor of the other. It’s only to say they are two vastly different phenomena, engaging two vastly different parts of ourselves, in two vastly different contexts. Still, they are inextricably linked. You need a ‘why’ to get to ‘how’; a ‘how’ to make the ‘why’ even possible; and for most, a sense for ‘how’ to open up to the ‘why’ in the first place.
All the while, the ‘how’ is of a different nature than the heart-pumping spectacle of ‘why’. They are worlds apart. The ‘why’ seeks to invoke change, while the ‘how’ seeks to make it sustainable. One somewhat invites stress, while the other aims to lessen it. One’s an idea, while the other’s an ongoing, physical act. But there’s a lot more to it. This is all just to say that though they go hand in hand, the feel and focus are totally different.
Plain and simple: The same budget, resources, and creativity that goes to proving vegan, needs to go toward showing and familiarizing vegan. It’s not proclaiming some dietary dogma, nor is there a silver bullet. It’s showing those 10,000-foot views, from many angles. It’s educating, building familiarity, talking openly, exploring issues, and listening too. Like all good things, it is a sort of evolutionary process. One that can be helped from small, everyday acts, to the larger, creative sort of endeavors, like films.
It is one thing to make the wider world more receptive, but it’s especially unfortunate that people are trying it, struggling, and giving up. It all just helps to solidify the shifting stereotype that is vegan. At a minimum, this world needs to be illuminated as it still continues to be, at best, a cacophony of virtual noise, and at worst, an ominous black box.
But even with the right attitude, people will still struggle with things in their transition, from education to relationships to everyday stresses to the mere act of changing in and of itself. Why then leave so much to an afterthought? The crux of the challenge to shallow instruction; the heart of the journey to stale bullet points. Demystifying that, and seeing it all come to life, is perhaps reason alone to embrace it.
There’s absolutely nothing scary nor intense nor complicated about being vegan. But you couldn’t quite say that about the alternative. One is colorful, delicious, and beautiful (on its own), while the other’s somber, disgusting, and repugnant. Naturally, you’d want to seek one out and hide from the other; all the while, most go contrary to intuition. Suffice it to say, something major is getting lost in the translation.
This was 2010. Very much a different world than today. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all bad. I felt like some weight was lifted, or I had gotten rid of something inside. That was nice. I just felt ‘cleaner’. I also really enjoyed discovering new foods (like mangoes, papaya, avocado… too many to name!) and suddenly aligning my life with my intuition. But my lack of experience, my ignorance, and ill preparation (I was working 90+ hours a week) presented lots of challenges.
Now, it seems effortless. I love how I eat. I’ve learned so much over the years. It doesn’t seem a challenge in the slightest. But though I welcomed the experience, it’s not fair for me to say that the transition was easy.
Yes, with the right attitude, the right preparations, the right education, I can see how the change might be instantly gratifying for some, even fun. But unfortunately, that’s not quite the context for most people.
15+ years later, it’s still quite easy to forget the challenges. I might say to others, ‘no it’s easy, buy this, do that,’ etc. But the real challenge (apart from education) lies in the newness of things: having no basis nor memories, being vulnerable, and starting from scratch. All the while, you’re going through the learning process and constantly making mistakes.
Why vegan?
There are a lot of very powerful reasons to stop eating animal products, especially in the 21st century. It’s not necessary nor is any aspect of it (though out of sight, out of mind) agreeable to most people. It’s not a major stretch of the imagination then, to promote something like going vegan. It makes a whole lot of sense, and most of us are rather powerfully affected by the ways in which it does.
If people are able to open up to it all, there’s an innate receptivity. Killing doesn’t feel very good, whether we do it or buy from those that do. But when you see it done with Six Sigma-like precision on a massive scale, with confined, sick, enslaved animals, it is maddening. Nor does it take much ‘belief’ in global warming to be affected by the Amazon destruction, species extinction, marine decimation, misuse of natural resources (i.e. growing corn and soy for livestock), or sheer pollution.
There’s an intuitive element to it too. Neither dead nor live animals are appetizing. Life or death necessity is different. But when you’re at home in the 21st century, in the sedated, quiet surroundings of modern life, a dead body or breast milk is rather disgusting. Plus, it’s a world of difference with plant-based food. It’s beautiful, it’s attractive, it’s aromatic (as it naturally is), and it just feels nourishing. No disguises necessary.
On top of it all is the scholarly research (both on health and the environment), the impressive athletic feats, the jarring footage, the open rescues (and inspiring stories), and the colorful food presentation presented in documentaries and across social media.
Suffice it to say, ‘why vegan’ has sort of been mastered by now. There is not much people can really say against it at this point. As such, when it has found itself in the limelight, so often it has come with a big splash.
So what happens? Why do the blockbuster documentaries ebb and flow like every other fad out there? Why do people temporarily open up to it, only to go back so soon? Why is it, even with mainstream visibility, we keep having the same conversation (proving protein, industry practices, etc.) ad nauseam to no avail? And how is it, in a world of such hopelessly passionate ‘pet’ owners, there is still such vehement opposition?
From why to how
When you do come across vegan, it’s usually - whether proclaimed or cleverly inferred - another reason for why: ‘did you know about this’ or ‘what about that’, ‘this research says this’ or ‘watch me do this, I’m vegan!’.
It’s almost always the ‘why’ or ‘why not’, to the point where the very word has become an emotionally charged archetype of sorts, but more ‘shadow’ or rumor than reality. The actual living and embracing of it so seldom gets shown.
In all likelihood, ‘vegan’ was never modeled for most of us, prior to actually going vegan. We didn’t grow up with it nor have we ever really seen it. Nevertheless, we still sensed there was a good reason for it.
So what happens after we watch that hit vegan documentary? Well, the show kind of just ends, while the real show actually begins, and nothing we watched made this part of the journey any more visible or familiar.
We’re motivated and inspired, but it can be all the more frustrating when we feel so powerless in how to start. We see the dazzling spectacle, emotions run high, but we never actually see what it could mean in practice. There’s this sort of longing anticipation, but ‘vegan’ itself stays foreign and perhaps becomes even more so because of it.
To have such an alluring impetus for why, yet such an ignorance for how, creates this schism in people, or cognitive dissonance. It can only last so long. One side will eventually prevail: whether the motivation to make it work, or the resignation that it can’t, with all of attendant cleverness coming to terms with that implied inevitability.
But even if it were more visible, it is a big change when you stop to think of it. It’s a neurological phenomenon of sorts. We bring to the transformation a lifetime of memories, habits and routines that acted as a silent, take-for-granted backdrop of our daily life. But you only notice it when you’re being called to change it, how it provided this sense of comfort and equilibrium, which takes time to reestablish.
It’s not that ‘vegan’ is scary, but that ‘change’ can feel rather scary. It’s like jumping into water from up high. We fear how vulnerable we’ll feel en route, even though its only water. We contend with that regardless, let alone when we factor in the sense for where we’ll land, or in this case, what feels to be a mysterious black box.
The black box
When we first hear of ‘vegan’ or are actually considering it, all we have to go on at that point is perhaps the bits and pieces we’ve learned by virtue of association. It might be someone we felt was judging us, some random YouTuber, or things overtly vegan like Daiya cheese, tempeh, tofu, Beyond Meat, Impossible Burgers, etc.
What is out there about ‘vegan’ is information overload, bits and pieces of knowledge intermixed with sheer ignorance. And when it’s new to you, how in the world can you tell the difference? It all feels the same, and the more there is, the more intimidating it seems. That 10,000-foot mountain view of vegan is a rare phenomenon. What is out there, taken altogether, feels more like looking out a dirty window in the middle of Times Square.
‘Vegan’ just sits there like this very imposing, foreign thing, reflective of the intense context with which we encounter it. We almost forget (until we’re reminded) that apples are vegan, or mangos, sweet potatoes, squash, grapes, and a virtually endless world of flavor - maybe even our favorite foods.
Nevertheless, the word itself is almost completely meaningless. It has a philosophical dimension and only slightly, a practical one, in that it implies ‘nothing from animals’. But for so many, the perception is this limited, preconceived idea arbitrarily fashioned through our brief encounters with it, versus some useful visual or insight. Suffice to say, we are the black box going into it all, just as much ‘vegan’ is.
We’ve simply never seen it modeled, and if we have, it was still likely only a limited, cursory impression. We meet ‘vegan’ too in a sort of obligatory, ‘you should’ sense, versus some alluring spectacle of the change itself that inspires the imagination. We don’t see it, we don’t know it, and we’re really not all that excited about it, though we might still feel called to try it.
The word itself represents possibility. But that doesn’t quite help. At some point, people suddenly have to make a meal without an animal in it - and where to begin? That 10,000-foot lay of the land is a sort of comforting visual to help get started - from the many ways to eat vegan, to the diversity of foods (all the fruits, vegetables, etc.), to the different cuisines, to the different products, to the psychological, social, and scientific aspects associated with the change.
There’s simply too much depth to it and throughout the plant kingdom, to rest contented with ‘vegan’ being feared and stereotyped. Of course, not everything can be addressed. But the change itself touches on so much. To go on various tours of it all and to gain a little familiarity (short of actual experience) is a far nicer starting point. After all, it’s the 21st century, and though certain individuals might be cool starting from scratch and stepping into the unknown, everyone else doesn’t have to. They face enough already.
The modern context
What they do face is the unique context where we all live today, that no one person is directly responsible for. Food has been ‘perfected’, isolated, and heightened to almost drug-like proportions. We’re a million miles away from it - it’s disguised too - and we rely on stories from industry as a substitute for reality. All the while, we live this sedentary, simulated sort of existence that’s rewiring us in the process. Our natural stream-of-consciousness has become dictated and contrived, while our evolving sense of expectation moves at the same, instantaneous pace of the virtual world.
It is more or less the status quo; all the while, it’s based around an animal-based diet, ‘out of sight, out of mind’ mythologized as ‘the natural way’.
There’s more you could point to, but it is a culture where instability lives as the standard, and almost everything becomes a fad because of it.
It’s a delicate balancing act. We contend with being heard above a virtual raucous and with what that raucous is doing to everyone. We contend with making food palatable while also resisting the pull toward unsustainable and unhealthy standards. We contend with provoking confrontation (inevitably) while also trying to soften or transform it. And we contend with meeting people where they’re at while also encouraging their better selves.
Alongside illuminating ‘vegan’ are these more profound, timely conversations that are affecting us all. The cause itself doesn’t live in a vacuum. It concerns people and their choices, and thus their well-being (or sanity) too. Inevitably, it’s necessary to acknowledge these things, though seemingly unrelated, that profoundly affect everything else in the process. When something’s dependent upon change and stability, pandemonium is to no avail, even with a popular presence amongst it.
Overall
For all the reasons to change, and all the efforts to show those reasons, it’s unfortunate to see what the impact has been, versus what it could be. No one is truly so rigidly attached to putting a dead animal in their stomach, nor are they truly horrified by the beautiful food forest of possibility. It’s simply that they’re used to one thing and it’s difficult parting from it without seeing into what comes next.
People struggle to confront the unknown. It is intimidating, especially in the modern world. But even those who momentarily get past that contend with the very real struggle of change. Most see the writing on the wall way in advance, and continue on with the status quo: ‘out of sight, out of mind’. It’s unfortunate to spend so many resources provoking that impetus to change, without a sufficient amount helping to make it a reality. It seems to be somewhat self-nullifying.
The ‘how’ and the ‘why’ are far from mutually exclusive. None of this is to condemn one in favor of the other. It’s only to say they are two vastly different phenomena, engaging two vastly different parts of ourselves, in two vastly different contexts. Still, they are inextricably linked. You need a ‘why’ to get to ‘how’; a ‘how’ to make the ‘why’ even possible; and for most, a sense for ‘how’ to open up to the ‘why’ in the first place.
All the while, the ‘how’ is of a different nature than the heart-pumping spectacle of ‘why’. They are worlds apart. The ‘why’ seeks to invoke change, while the ‘how’ seeks to make it sustainable. One somewhat invites stress, while the other aims to lessen it. One’s an idea, while the other’s an ongoing, physical act. But there’s a lot more to it. This is all just to say that though they go hand in hand, the feel and focus are totally different.
Plain and simple: The same budget, resources, and creativity that goes to proving vegan, needs to go toward showing and familiarizing vegan. It’s not proclaiming some dietary dogma, nor is there a silver bullet. It’s showing those 10,000-foot views, from many angles. It’s educating, building familiarity, talking openly, exploring issues, and listening too. Like all good things, it is a sort of evolutionary process. One that can be helped from small, everyday acts, to the larger, creative sort of endeavors, like films.
It is one thing to make the wider world more receptive, but it’s especially unfortunate that people are trying it, struggling, and giving up. It all just helps to solidify the shifting stereotype that is vegan. At a minimum, this world needs to be illuminated as it still continues to be, at best, a cacophony of virtual noise, and at worst, an ominous black box.
But even with the right attitude, people will still struggle with things in their transition, from education to relationships to everyday stresses to the mere act of changing in and of itself. Why then leave so much to an afterthought? The crux of the challenge to shallow instruction; the heart of the journey to stale bullet points. Demystifying that, and seeing it all come to life, is perhaps reason alone to embrace it.
There’s absolutely nothing scary nor intense nor complicated about being vegan. But you couldn’t quite say that about the alternative. One is colorful, delicious, and beautiful (on its own), while the other’s somber, disgusting, and repugnant. Naturally, you’d want to seek one out and hide from the other; all the while, most go contrary to intuition. Suffice it to say, something major is getting lost in the translation.
Out in the open, it all speaks for itself - especially today. Both the cause and the change. But when it seems the only way, perhaps it feels more manageable for people to close their eyes to the status quo than submit to something foreign that’s totally in the dark. Whatever the metaphor, it’s no stretch of the imagination to say: hiding is never pleasant, and when we are scared, a bit of daylight always seems to make things right.
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